


The Thrilla in the Villa

by AstroHawthorne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boxing & Fisticuffs, Crack, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28012170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstroHawthorne/pseuds/AstroHawthorne
Summary: This was written in response to a call for crackfics from Charlenette in the Flowerpot Discord Server (link discord. gg/Np2zjA) based on a prompt she wrote.Happy birthday, Char. This one's your fault.Prompt:Veela children are delivered to their families by magical storks. However, to claim the children, fathers must prove their ability to defend the precious little chicks by winning a fight against the birds.
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Harry Potter
Kudos: 12





	The Thrilla in the Villa

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in response to a call for crackfics from Charlenette in the Flowerpot Discord Server (link discord. gg/Np2zjA) based on a prompt she wrote.
> 
> Happy birthday, Char. This one's your fault.
> 
> Prompt:  
> Veela children are delivered to their families by magical storks. However, to claim the children, fathers must prove their ability to defend the precious little chicks by winning a fight against the birds.

_Rule #1 of The Coven:_ **Don't talk about The Coven.**

The noise of the crowd was deafening. Bird calls, human yelling, and a flurry of feathers floated through the air as Harry stood in the tunnel, waiting for his time in the arena. The noise of the crowd rose and fell with the flow of the fight currently in progress. Each loud thwack of fist or wing met with a deafening roar of approval that shook the foundation.

His nerves grew with every cheer, imagining the poor sod in the ring right now, throwing punch after punch for the right to have children (and avoid getting his face smeared into the canvas by a massive bird).

“And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” the announcer crowed. “Tonight’s title card match: The fight to end all fight.”

_Wait. He was the main event? No one had told him that._

“The heavyweight bout to end them all,” the announcer continued.

_Was he supposed to put on weight for this?_ _Quidditch didn't exactly favor heavyset fliers._

Harry looked down at his fairly noodly arms. Fleur had only really told him about the whole ‘fight for your children’ thing two days ago when he asked why she hadn’t gotten pregnant after months of trying. Yeah, he was still a little mad about that. Not that he was complaining about having sex, mind you. But, some warning about the whole 'boxing for children' affair would have been appropriate. 

She hadn't even seemed sympathetic about the whole affair, insisting that Veela survived for generations through secrecy and tradition. That might be true, and he considered himself quite the understanding husband in that regard, never prying too hard into anything deemed 'Coven business'. But learning about an all-out boxing match for the right to have a family with no time to train or even consider the situation? 

“The fiercest bird to ever enter the wing,” the announcer shouted as the crowd noise rose like a wave, heedless to Harry's inner monologue.

_Oh no. That doesn’t sound promising._

“Facing, the Man-Who-Conquered!” the announcer continued, as the crowd approached their deafening crescendo.

_God, he hated that moniker._

_"_ In Fleur Delacour's corner, give it up for... Harry Potter!" the announcer finished with a flourish, and the crowd reached a feverish pitch.

Assuming the roar of the crowd to be his cue, Harry double-checked the straps on his bright green boxing gloves and stepped out of the tunnel into pure chaos. The arena was packed. The noise from the hallway had been one thing. But, as he looked around in wonder, thousands of voices, avian and otherwise, rose from all sides. They packed the rickety bleachers. They packed the dirt floor surrounding the ring. Hell, a crowd of Veela had packed the _rafters_ , wings fluttering lightly as they peered down at the ring from their vantage point.

Big, statuesque security Veelas lined the path to the ring, dressed in impeccable suits and black ties. They held their wings outstretched, forming a cordon. Wanting to get things over with, he jogged down the pathway to the ring, waving half-heartedly to the crowd on the way.

Reaching the ropes, he clambered up the side, quickly ducking under the ropes to enter the ring. Striding quickly over to his corner, he squatted down to talk to Fleur, who was standing next to the ring nervously, water bottle in one hand and towel in the other.

"You didn't tell me there would be crowds!" Harry hissed at Fleur. She _knew_ he hated being the center of attention, and this was worse than any event Kingsley had ever forced him to attend.

"If you knew about the crowds, you wouldn't have come," Fleur shot back, not sheepish about the whole affair in the slightest. "I thought you wanted children, Harry! Always going on and on about raising 'our wonderful family together'. What happened to that?"

"Well, yeah! But like... you understand that this is crazy, right? I'm probably coming home with brain damage! You gonna hold my hand in St. Mungo's while I mutter about birds for the rest of my days? What's the next secret Veela ritual, getting strapped to a rack while Foghorn Leghorn uses me as a bongo set?" Harry replied, suitably indignant. But, before he could get any further into the apparently long-overdue argument with his wife, the announcer decided it was time for the show to go on.

"And now, introducing his opponent: the fiercest avian to ever step foot in the ring; the most dangerous hen this side of the Elbe; the Nightmare of Lorraine. Give it up for... Griseldaaaaaaaaa!"

_Oh, Christ on a soda cracker that's a big bird,_ was the only coherent thought Harry could form when he stood up to get a good look at his opponent. Emerging from the tunnel was by far the biggest Veela Harry had ever seen, by far. As she lumbered towards the ring, soaking in the crowd's adoration as she went, Harry got a good idea of how utterly fucked he was.

She had to be at least a head taller than him and built sturdier than some of the brick walls in Diagon Alley. With each flex for the crowd, Harry's heart sunk lower and lower into his stomach. Her biceps seemed to be the size of _his head_ and with each step she took, her rock-hard abs rippled in a wave. This wasn't going to be a fight, this was going to be _utter annihilation_.

He shot a panicked and annoyed glance back towards Fleur, who had gone as white as a sheet. Apparently, she had finally realized the gravity of the situation _._ Making eye contact, he flicked his eyes twice towards the massive walking wall of muscle making her way towards the ring

"Hey Fleur, what the fuck?" Harry shouted back towards her growing more and more annoyed at being thrown into this situation by the minute. After a couple of seconds without a response, he glanced back to find that she was just staring blankly at Griselda, finally picking up on the fear that had been coursing through his own veins since dawn.

Griselda reached the ring, slowly climbing the ropes to the top, before making a show out of leaping down onto the mat. From a distance, she had already been intimidating, but up close the situation was even worse. She had to stand at least a full head taller than him, and if Harry had learned anything about boxing in the last two days, it's that if your opponent was taller than you, _it was going to be a really bad time_.

"And now, to put it all on the table, we have the stakes for tonight's match: The greatest prize the Order of the Storks can offer. An honor only bestowed upon the most worthy of opponents. Tonight, Harry will be fighting for _twins,"_ the announcer crowed. From the rafters, a basket descended, tracked by spotlights from all sides. The basket softly landed on the floor of the arena, and the announcer reached in as the crowd fell to a whisper. Standing back up to his full height with an adorable bundle of feather and blanket held in each hand, he raised them to the crowd, spinning in a circle so everyone could get a good glimpse of what was on the line.

Harry's heart skipped a beat in his chest. They were _adorable_. The cute little bundles of joy he had always wanted. All he had to do was defeat a professional boxer with two days of training, and they would be coming home with him. He felt a familiar firelight in his chest. The inferno that drove him through the darkest times of the war filled him with resolve. If he had to take down a giant to claim what he desired, so be it.

The time for pageantry was over. The referee stepped up to the center of the ring, beckoning both fighters forward from their corners. As he reached up to touch his green gloves to the massive hot pink pair currently hovering at about eye-level, the fire in his chest dimmed slightly at the massive task that lay before him.

He was probably clucked, but _damn_ , he had always dreamed of having twins. Squaring up to the massive wall of chicken tenders in front of him, Harry decided that regardless of the outcome, someone was about to get _served_.

=== BIRD FIGHT SCENE BREAK ===

Waking up in St. Mungo's felt a lot like waking up in the Hospital Wing back home. The pounding behind his temples was relentless. Rolling over onto his side, he saw Fleur's handbag on the chair next to him, but no Fleur. A glance around the rest of the room confirmed that regrettably, there were no Veela chicks to be seen. Well, that was about what he expected. He would go back to The Coven one day, both to prove his worth and to claim the family he always wanted. But, that could wait until his head stopped pounding.

"Next time for sure," he whispered to himself before passing the fuck out to sleep off his headache.

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